Best Thing About Tonight
by arianapeterson19
Summary: Some shorts about the Avengers and they're adventures...a lot of Tony because I may be mildly obsessed but I do have all the others included and will write them-centric shorts upon request. Any topic is fair game, so you have been warned.
1. Alone Now

**Alone Now**

The best thing about the dark was that it hid his scars rather well. Tony knew that was the only reason he ever got undressed was the dark. If it was not dark, he would remain covered, either in a nice suit, his work clothes, or his Iron Man suit. Always clothed. Except in the cover of darkness.

"Any day now, guys," said Tony into his earpiece.

"We're trying," said Natasha. "This isn't exactly easy."

"And this isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my evening but you know what, things happen," snapped Tony.

"We're hurrying, love," said Steve, his voice calm and steady. "Don't be mean."

"Tony, can you tell us what it's like down there?" asked Clint. "It might be faster for you to try and find a way out. We aren't making much progress up here."

Natasha slapped Clint over the head, glaring at him while Steve moved to reassure his boyfriend.

"What do you mean you aren't making progress?!" yelled Tony, the panic he had been fighting off with snide remarks closing in. "I'm in a damn cave and you aren't making progress?"

"Tony, sweetie, relax," said Steve. "You're not in a cave, you're just under a building. You're not back there. We're going to get you out. I promise."

Tony didn't answer. He knew that Steve meant what he said, but at the same time, No one had ever come after Tony before when he got into messes. When he was taken prisoner, he'd had to fight his own way out. This would be no different.

"Tony, you with us?" asked Clint.

"It's dark," said Tony, softly, almost to himself. "The space is about four feet tall and five wide. I could probably move some of these rocks and work my way up to you guys."

Tony got to his feet, biting back a yelp as he put pressure on his feet, both of which had been hurt during the explosion.

"Try it, Tony," said Natasha encouragingly. "We're working down, you work up, and we'll meet you in the middle."

The ground shifted around them and the Avengers could hear Tony scream as more rocks fell into his safe spot.

"Tony, are you alright?" demanded Steve.

"Ow," whimpered Tony. "Steve, make it stop."

The others looked at Steve, alarmed. Over the years, they had become like a family, living and working together, but Tony rarely relaxed enough to let them see him weak. He was still the only one not trained to fight, still human, and he didn't want them to see him as a burden no matter how they insisted that he wasn't. Steve was the only one allowed to see him vulnerable.

"I will, love," said Steve, fighting to keep his voice calm. "I need you to tell me where it hurts though. Can you do that for me?"

The others went back to shifting the rubble, knowing they were close if they had felt the rocks move when Tony tried to clear the way himself. They had to hurry, time was running short for their favorite billionaire.

"Feet," whimpered Tony over the line. "I wanna go home now."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. What else hurts?"

"Arm," said Tony after a pause, his voice weaker. "Hand has a cut. It's bleeding. Make it stop bleeding, Steve. Please."

It broke Steve's heart to hear his boyfriend in pain, begging him to make it better and unable to do anything about it.

"Keep him talking," whispered Natasha. "We're almost there."

"Tony, we're going to get you out soon and then I'll take you to get fixed up," promised Steve.

"No doctors," said Tony petulantly. "Hate doctors."

"What if I promise to stay with you?"

"What if we let Bruce fix you up?" offered Clint, throwing a large rock out of the way. "His flight back from India should be getting in soon. We can even have him meet you at the Tower."

"Clint gets a pony!" said Tony. "Clint has good ideas. Clint can stay."

Clint beamed. He viewed Tony as a brother, the two picked at each other but were also in cahoots when causing mischief. The archer planned on holding Tony to his pony promise.

"I've got a leg," reported Natasha, causing everyone's efforts to be redoubled.

Soon, they had Tony clear of the rubble. The billionaire curled into Steve's arms, hiding his face in his boyfriends neck, whimpering as each movement caused him pain. Steve, however, was just happy to have him back and whispered promises in the dark, dirty hair, while Clint flew them all back to the Tower.

"Don't let me be alone again," said Tony softly, rubbing his nose against the expanse of skin at Steve's neck, inhaling the scent that was entirely Steve, which meant Tony was safe and home.

"I'll always come for you," promised Steve and for the first time, Tony believed him.


	2. Leave

**Leave**

"I'm not that kind of person anymore," he whispered, begging her to believe him.

"What do you want me to think Tony?" snapped Pepper. "The stories are pretty convincing and let's face it, this wouldn't be the first time the tabloids got it right."

"You'll believe stories before you believe me?"

Believe was Tony's favorite word. He liked the way it rolled off his tongue, how it was more vowels than consonants, and how it wasn't a palindrome. But his favorite part if the word believe was that it couldn't be spelled without 'lie' in the middle. The very spelling was contrary to what the word meant.

"Don't you dare play that card!" Pepper screamed, grabbing his wrist so hard he felt the capillaries bursting and blood pooling to form a bruise.

"I wasn't trying to play any card," said Tony, shaking his head as he thought about how unfair the world was to think that only men could be abusive. "Now let go, you're hurting me."

"Do you swear that you didn't cheat on me?"

"You broke up with me already, what does it matter?"

Tony saw it coming. He could have avoided it if he wanted, but some part of him felt like he deserved the pain. A larger part of him still loved her and would do anything to make her happy, and if that meant taking the hit, he would do it. So when she punched him in the eye, he didn't bother flinching, just fell to the ground because it was what she expected.

"I never cheated on you," said Tony softly. "I never would."

Her face changed from hideous anger to deep concern, shocked at what she had done.

"Let me help you up," said Pepper, reaching down to her ex boyfriend, as if that would make it better.

"Leave me alone."

"Tony," said Pepper, her voice broken.

"That will be all, Miss Potts," said Tony with finality she had never heard him use.

"Of course, Mr. Stark."

For the rest of the week, Tony stayed in his workshop, the doors locked, music up, and coffee flowing freely, until it stopped. That was the only reason Tony had even ventured out of his fortress of mechanics and into the common area, to get more coffee.

The kitchen wasn't empty as he had hoped but that didn't stop him from going after his goal. He simply ignored Clint, expect to deposit a stack of new arrows in front of him.

"You've been down there for three days, please tell me this is not the only thing you came up with," said Clint in a way that was less rude and more concerned.

"I brought an empty mug with me," said Tony dully, waving it in the air to show the archer, his back turned.

"Care to share what happened to your wrist?" asked Natasha, making her way over to the fridge for some juice.

"Working," replied Tony, wishing the coffee machine would work faster, silently vowing to upgrade it next.

"Wasn't aware your bots had small hands," was all Natasha said in response.

Tony made a non committal noise and turned to fetch a clean mug out of the mug cupboard, exposing his face to the two assassins for the first time.

"Tony, if she give me any of the I-fell-down bullshit I know you're about to I'm going to shove you face in the toilet and give you a swirly," said Clint, eyeing the black eye on the billionaire. "So I'll only ask you this once, what happened to your eye?"

"Pepper broke up with me," said Tony.

"And she informed you by punching you?" said Natasha slowly.

"Something like that," muttered Tony. "Look, it's not a big deal. She was mad, she thought I cheated on her, which I didn't, but it's not the first time. It's nothing to freak out about."

"Not the first time she thought you cheated on her or not the first time she's hit you?"

"Yes," said Tony, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with the conversation. "But we all know I deserve it. So can we be done here?"

Natasha and Clint exchanged looks, communicating more in that silence than most couples did in a lifetime. Natasha quietly left the kitchen, patting a hidden knife in her sleeve as she went, leaving Clint and Tony alone in the kitchen.

"You're wrong, you know," said Clint after a moment of awkward silence. "No one deserves to get hit by someone they love."

And with that, Clint picked up his arrows and stood.

"Now, are you going to show me what these things can do or what?"

Tony smiled and followed the archer out, knowing that it wasn't the end of the conversation, knowing he didn't want to guess where Natasha had runoff to, but being okay with not being alone for the moment.

"The black one is controlled acid," said Tony, picking up speed as he talked, excited to explain his creations to someone who would appreciate them, if only because they were made for them. But even if Clint wasn't interested, he would have listened , it's what teammates did.


	3. Shopping while Bored

**Shopping while Bored**

In hindsight, it wasn't Natasha's brightest idea to bring Tony to the store with her. As usual, she. Had to learn the hard way the reason Tony did most of his shopping online.

"No, Tony, you can't eat that yet," said Natasha for the fifth time.

"I'm hungry," whined Tony. "Why do we have to be here?"

"Because Thor ate all of your Pop Tarts and Steve ate everything else in the kitchen."

"Then why didn't you make them come with you? They are the ones that should be punished, not me!"

Natasha roller her eyes while biting back a retort that explained how she was the one being punished by having to out up with a whiney, board Tony Stark. Unfortunately, after his breakup with Pepper, Tony had shut himself in his lab, forcing the other Avengers to take turns dragging him out. It was her turn and she had thought shopping would be a simple enough task.

"Hey Nat!" yelled Tony, running up to her with a bag full of water and six goldfish. "Do you think these come with chips?"

"Put the fish back, Stark," growled Natasha.

"So is that a no for them coming with chips?" asked Tony, looking disappointed. "Because I'm sure we could buy the chips separate. We can't have fish without chips."

With a heavy sigh, Natasha rubbed her temples, silently vowing to never bring Tony shopping again. Before she could voice the fact aloud, however, Tony was off again, exploring the store.

Tony had been unnaturally excited when Natasha had entered his workshop earlier demanding that he come shopping with her. It had been years since anyone had allowed him near an actual store but, being Tony Stark, he had to complain and pretend he wasn't happy about the boring task of shopping. Once in the store, he had managed to keep up the charade for almost five whole minutes, mainly because he kept munching on food from the cart and putting the price stickers on his jacket. Still, the moment Natasha had her back turned, he was off.

Before he found the fish, he had gone down the toy aisle. There he had located an Easy Bake Oven and, realizing that the incompetent fools who ran the store had made a grievous mistake, had taken the oven to the grill section and left it between a stainless steel grill and a tiny one man grill. Next, he found the fish and when he saw the fish, he wanted fish and chips like his Aunt Peggy used to make him. But Natasha, being the fun sucker that she was, shot down his idea, even though he had made sure to get one fish for every Avenger.

After that, Tony went down the breakfast food aisle to grad Pop Tarts. That was when he spotted the fiber cereal, sitting on the shelf between the marshmallow fruity cereal and the nasty oat meal with not flavor and less appeal bin. It was like trying to avoid a sirens call and that was how Natasha found him ten minutes later, standing in front of a mannequin that held a box of fiber cereal in one plastic hand, was wearing an adult diaper over its black pants, and holding what sounded like an in depth conversation with the thing.

"Tony, we're checking out, come on," said Natasha, opting not to comment on the strange state she found the billionaire.

Everything went well with the checkout process, Tony insisted on saying beep every time something was scanned, but otherwise it was fine, until Tony himself climbed onto the conveyer belt.

"What the hell are you doing, Stark?" demanded Natasha, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I was hungry," replied Tony with a shrug. "I ate some food while I was here. No worries, I stuck the price tags on my jacket so you, fine wench, may feel free to check me out."

Natasha groaned, the checkout girl blushed, and Tony beamed; he had been dying to use that double line since he arrived at the store.

"That is it!" growled Natasha when they finally arrived back at the tower with the food, the other Avengers all waiting in the kitchen for them. "I'm making a new rule right now. Tony is never allowed to go to the store ever again. I'm going to go shot something."

Steve, Bruce, Thor, and Clint all stared after Natasha as she stormed out, then turned their surprised looks onto Tony.

"I think I broke her," shrugged Tony. "But the could have all been avoided if she had just let me get the damn fish and chips."


	4. Not Fighting

**Not Fighting**

He had always assumed it was because there was something fundamentally wrong with his brain that he saw the world differently. The doctors called him a genius, the papers called him a prodigy, but he knew the truth. He saw things in a different light than the rest of the world.

Sitting in a meeting with Fury and the other Avengers, Tony couldn't help but notice the way Steve sat perfectly still and alert, his blues eyes trained on the Director with an intensity born of military training. Natasha and Clint were also statue still, though their eyes flicked about like the assassins they were, never settling long enough to miss any movement. Settling could cost them their life. Thor was off planet and Tony envied him for missing the meeting. Bruce was hunched in his seat, as if he thought that making himself smaller would make him invisible. It didn't and Tony briefly wondered if he should tell the scientist that. Instead, Tony just drummed his fingers on his tablet, making calculations and plans the same way Steve drew pictures.

"What were you thinking?" roared Fury, continuing his rant about their latest mission. "It looks like a unicorn vomited all over the Congo! You call that discreet?"

Personally, Tony had liked the colors. They made him think of crayons, which made him think about how he needed to produce more sturdy crayons for Steve to use. The super flag kept breaking them. It anyone had asked him, Tony would have been happy to tell them that the 64 box of crayons was the best box to get. It had the perfect amount of shades of each color without being overwhelming. But no one asked Tony and he didn't offer the information.

"Are you even listening, Stark?" demanded Fury.

"You just said, 'Next time I'll just let the Fantastic Four handle it if you can't get your shit together,'" drawled Tony. "Look, this conversation is boring, can we talk about dragons?"

"Is everything a joke to you?" snapped Steve.

"You already asked that when we first met, the answer remains the same. Funny things are."

"Shut up, both of you," said Natasha in her quiet, dangerous voice.

"You're not the boss of me," said Tony. "On the list of dangerous people SHIELD is monitoring, I do believe I rank above creep assail witch."

"That's only because you hacked the system and put yourself at number 5," said Bruce.

"Stark, quit hacking my system!" yelled Fury.

"Then quit making me sit through these boring ass meetings."

"That is it!" screamed Fury. "I have had it with you all. All you ever do is fight. The only time I've seen you get along is when there's an alien invasion actively happening. I'm enacting Protocol 73."

With that, Fury stormed out of the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, leaving the Avengers sitting around the debriefing table.

"Now you've done it," said Steve, glaring at Tony. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut. We were almost done with the meeting."

"And now we're really done with it. I don't see Fury in here, I take that as dismissal."

Tony got to his feet to leave just as Fury's voice crackled over the intercom.

"Avengers," said Fury, his disembodied voice filling the room. "As I stated, I'm enacting Protocol 73. You all are not allowed to leave this room until it is complete. I'm sick and tired of all of you trying to impress each other, so you've brought this upon yourself. You will each be facing your biggest fear. Let your team see you at your weakest, allow them to pull you through, and then we can call it quits for the day."

Silence echoed through the room as the intercom clicked off.

"Finally, Eye Patch has a good idea!" said Tony, breaking the silence. "This is way more interesting than a meeting."

The lights went out.

"Alright, who's afraid of the dark?" said Steve, his clear voice cutting through the darkness.

"Bruce," whispered Tony, already making his way over to the only Avenger who actually seemed to like him.

Everyone else in the room froze, hearing the labored breathing of Bruce Banner picking up steam.

"I'm hungry, Bruce," said Tony, making his voice as obnoxious as possible, tugging on the scientists sleeve. "Let's order a pizza."

Bruce blinked up at him from where he was crouched on the floor against the wall. In his head, he knew that Tony wasn't actually hungry, just as he knew that the lights would come back on before he could endanger the rest of the team by letting the Hulk out, but the terrified part of him clung to Tony's whining like a lifeline.

"I know you're listening, Fury," called Tony, allowing himself to sit on the ground I front do Bruce, his hand still on the other mans arm, ignoring the trembling that could easily release the Hulk. "So make yourself useful and order us tome pizzas. I want supreme. What about you, Banner?"

"Cheese," whispered Bruce, his voice harsh, shaking, but calmer for the contact.

"So a supreme and cheese pizza," said Tony loudly. "Hawk eye wants sausage, Spangles only eats pineapple-which is gross, but whatever- and Tasha fills up on the should of others every morning, so she's probably not hungry."

"I'll eat your should next if you don't order me a diet coke," hissed Natasha, though her voice betrayed her amusement. She could appreciate how Stark was grounding them all, especially Bruce, by pretending things were normal.

"I don't have a soul," replied Tony haughtily. "But you heard the lady, Fury. We need drinks and pizza if we're expected to play nice."

Tony continued to talk about other foods, drawing the rest, even Bruce, into a lively conversation about what the use of corn starch actually was. As they talked, Tony's mind went ahead, going over what he knew the other Avengers feared and coming up with the best way to counteract those fears. He turned it into a game and was determined to stay one step ahead of Fury.

The lights came back on, making everyone but Tony blink at the sudden change; Tony had his eyes closed.

"So Banner," said Steve as casually as possible. "You're afraid of the dark?"

"I'm afraid of what the dark means," said Bruce, curling in on himself more, trying in vain to become one with the wall.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm mildly disappointed that we still don't have pizza," said Tony, cutting through the awkward tension that had begun to build in the room."

Suddenly, the temperature dropped in the room, sinking below freezing in a matter of minutes.

"What the hell?" demanded Clint, perching on the table, knees drawn to his chest in an attempt to conserve body heat. "Who the hell is afraid of the cold?"

Steve had gone strangely still and Tony, being Tony, walked directly up to the taller soldier and slapped him across the face.

"What was that?" gasped Steve, shaking in the cold he only remembered feeling, his super serum body working to keep his core temperature more resistant to the cold than normal humans.

"Natasha is cold," said Tony with a shrug, trying not to be killed by the glare he could feel directed to the back of his head by the red head. "Take care of your team, Rogers."

With that, Tony went back to his seat, threw his feet onto the table, and pretended that the mist in front of his face from the cold did not bother him. Natasha, thankfully, seemed to understand that the best way for Steve to take his mind off his fear of the cold, born from 70 years of being frozen, was to give him the task of caring for the team, so she bit her lip and let him hold her. To her surprise, she found herself relaxing into Steve's chest, his heat warming her chilled body. Clint nodded approvingly to himself, happy that Steve and Natasha both were taken care of, and went back to huddling in on himself.

The temperature began going back up. Before it had reached its normal temperature, the room filled with a child's scream. It went on and on, not ending.

Clint reacted before anyone else, rushing to Natasha, throwing his hands over her hers that were already covering her ears. Tony, realizing that the screams must remind Natasha of her childhood, looked around the room for the speaker. There had to be a speaker. He knew what it was like to relive childhood fears and he would find the speaker and dismantle it in a most cruel way. Finally, he spotted it in the corner.

With a sigh that no one heard over the sound of screaming, Tony dragged a chair over to the wall, stood on it, and proceeded to rip the speaker right out of the wall. The momentum of the speaker giving way sent him sprawling back onto the floor, the metal cutting into his hand bitterly across the palm, but ending the recorded screams.

"Sh, Tasha, you're okay," said Clint soothingly. "You're at SHEILD with Bruce, Tony, Steve, and me. It was just Fury being a prick."

Natasha nodded into Clint's chest but refused to pull away, not ready to face her peers. Steve looked pityingly at the pair, feeling useless because he couldn't help. Bruce remained on the floor, not trusting himself near the others. Tony brought the speaker back to his seat and began taking it systematically apart.

"That's three down, two to go," said Steve.

"Your skills in math never cease to amaze me," said Tony, not looking up from his project.

Suddenly, the lights turned a dim blue. It wasn't particularly scary, it wasn't dark, it was just a shimmering blue like light reflecting off of water, moving and glinting. But it was enough that both Natasha and Tony recognized what it was. It was less effective without the speaker in use, but it still cause Clint to freeze. Natasha immediately covered his eyes with her hands while Tony started talking.

"I'm Henry the 8th I am, I am, Henry the 8th I am," sang Tony as loudly as he could, moving his arms to get the others to join him. "I got married to the widow next door, she's been married 7 times before and every one was a Henry! Henry! Not a Willy nor a Sam. I'm the eighth old man I'm Henry. Henry! Henry the 8th I am, I am. Henry the 8th I am. Second verse, same as the first!"

Tony was twelve verse into the song before Clint lost it and rounded on the billionaire and his friends, who had joined in the song with gusto.

"Would you shut up!" screamed Clint, though his eyes begged them to keep going, to keep the voices in his head form his time with Loki at bay.

"Thirteenth verse, same as the first!" laughed Tony, mocking the archer in a way that wasn't cruel.

"At this rate Fury is going to crack before anyone else," said Natasha with a small smile. "I'm Henry the 8th I am, I am."

The lights abruptly returned to normal, causing all of the Avengers to laugh, albeit Clint's was a bit watery.

"Still waiting on that pizza," said Tony.

"Tony, you're the only one left," said Steve, suddenly serious as he realized that they were almost through.

"Relax, Cap," said Tony, rolling his eyes. "I'm Iron Man. What's the worst that could happen?"

Suddenly, the floor of the room started to fill with water. Tony quickly pulled himself onto the table, glaring at the water.

"Fury, if you ruin my shoes, you will be buying me three new pairs," threatened Tony, though his heart wasn't in it. In the back of his mind, the cave was fighting its way forward, trying to overtake him. "You know what the best thing about right now is?"

If the others answer, Tony didn't hear them. The voices of his captors were filling his ears and he talked to keep from screaming as the water inched closer.

"The best thing about right now is that we're not fighting," continued Tony. "We could be great, you know. And I could like you all. I know that I'm obnoxious and all, but that's just because -if that water doesn't stay on its fucking half of the table I'm going to find a giant ass sponge and throw it on it."

Steve, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha all exchanged worried looks. They knew Tony, the billionaire was a pain in the ass most of the time, he was many things, but scared was not one of them. This was the man who flew a nuke into space without blinking, who provoked Bruce to see the giant green rage monster, who teased two master assassins for fun, and who dove out of buildings and jets alike because he could. He couldn't be afraid of water.

"Whatever, I get it, okay!" screamed Tony, not taking his eyes off the ever encroaching water. "We need to get along. They can live in the Tower. No one gives a damn if I live or die here, you've made your point, not turn off the fucking water."

"What's going on?" whispered Steve.

"I won't build your weapons!"

"Shit," cursed Natasha. "Fury, stop. You're giving him a panic attack."

The water continued to rise.

"Someone needs to do something," said Clint.

Tony curled into himself, shaking on the table as the water climbed higher. Steve jumped onto the table with him and pulled the smaller man into his lap, whispering softly words that Tony didn't hear but the tone was soothing and began blocking out some of the angry words in his head that rang on. Natasha and Clint searched the room for a way out and Bruce paced to keep his temper in check.

In a compartment of his mind, Tony was aware of the activity around him. That part of his mind was screaming at him to take over, that the cave wasn't real, to follow the sound of the soft voice that was talking to him, but the rest of his mind was too loud.

"Fury, if you don't unlock this door right now, I will let the Other Guy out to play and I can't promise that he'll stay in this room," announced Bruce, his voice bordering on a roar, eyes flashing green.

There was a moment of silence, then a soft click as the bolt slid back in the door. Clint opened the door, bracing himself against the frame as the water rushed out, pushing against his body.

"Tony, we're going back to the Tower now, okay?" said Steve quietly.

"I didn't say you could leave," said Fury, marching down the hall to them.

"We all have lines," said Natasha, her voice a near hiss. "You should have thought before you crossed that one. Protocol 73 was designed to allow each of us a chance to explain a fear of ours and why we fear it. If anyone was reluctant to share, they would have their fear announced. Never once where they to face it head on, without warning, specifically for the reason that we have now. Congratulations, Director, you just sent Tony Stark into a full blown PTSD panic attack."

"We're going home," said Bruce. "If you don't want the Other Guy to make an appearance, you'll wait for us to come to you."

Fury glared at the team as the passed in a protective formation around Tony, Steve all but carrying the unresponsive man down the hall.

"Director, was that wise?" asked Agent Hill.

"They needed it," replied Fury. "They were starting to pull away from Stark. They needed to know they cared."


	5. Harmless

**Harmless**

"Captain, I've been wondering," began Tony during dinner one evening with the Avengers.

They should have stopped him there. Nothing good came from Tony starting a conversation with him wondering something. But they didn't stop him. They let him talk, which was their first-but not last- mistake of the evening.

"Do you wear boxers, briefs, or go commando under your uniform?"

Steve spit out the water he had been drinking in surprise.

"Pardon me?" said Steve, blinking in quick succession as if that would help him understand the question presented.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say not to the boxers," said Clint.

"Don't encourage him," groaned Bruce.

"I agree, Legolas," said Tony with a grin. The archer was always helping him cause mischief. "I always took Cap for more of a Tidy Whiteys type of fella. Though it would be so American to fight free balling."

"I wear underwear, thank you very much," snapped Steve, not at all liking where the conversation was headed. "Briefs. They are comfortable and supportive and keep everything in place."

"They sound like a sports bra for your balls," said Natasha.

"You should try boxer-briefs," said Clint. "All the support without the chafing."

"I can't believe we're talking about underwear at dinner," muttered Bruce, head in his hands. "This is what my life has become."

"Shut up," said Tony playfully. "We all know that the Hulk doesn't wear underwear. Wear lucky if he wears pants. The rest of us have to think about mundane things like this though."

"Let's watch a movie," said Steve, eager to end the conversation. "Who's turn is it to pick?"

"Mine!" yelled Clint, jumping out of his seat in excitement. "I get to pick!"

He rushed off to search Tony's vast array of movies while the others cleaned up their plates. Tony had an impressive collection of movies. One of the first things the Avengers learned about their resident billionaire when they moved into his home was that Tony loved movies. It was almost a sure fire way to drag him out of his lab, having a movie night. He had an entire room dedicated just to his movies. The organization was simple. At first, it had gone alphabetically. As the collection grew, however, he had acquired enough bad monster movies to make their own category, so he split those movies from the others and had them in alphabetical order. As his collection grew, he eventually had to make more genre categories, which were the only things not in alphabetical order. The genres went in order of when they gained enough movies to become their own genre. Each time a new genre came about, all the movies in that group were gathered and laced at the end of the collection.

Clint knew exactly what movie he wanted to watch. It had turned out that he and Tony had a love of bad monster movies that the others did not share, so whenever it was their turn to pick, they chose a bad monster movie to torture the others with. This time, Clint chose Mega Piranha.

"What the hell type of movie is this?" demanded Natasha, glaring at the television that took up most of the far wall.

"Oh yes, I love this movie," said Tony, jumping onto the couch next to Clint. "Tiffany is hilarious and The Asylum makes the best monster movies, hands down."

"I am not sitting through another horrible monster movie," said Steve from his place on the couch on Tony's other side. "Pick something else."

"Oi, it my turn to pick and I didn't bitch when I had to sit through your choice of sappy romantic comedy last time," said Clint with a glare.

"Princess is just being difficult," said Tony easily. "Start the movie, he'll be fine."

Jarvis began the movie for them as the lights dimmed.

Tony and Clint laughed throughout the entire movie, poking fun at the characters, making up their own lines, and having a continual running commentary going that made the others chuckle and start to see why the pair loved the movies so much.

As the movie progressed, Natasha glanced over the room, doing a check to make sure all was well, when she noticed how Tony had sprawled himself across the couch, his head in Clint's lap and feet in Steve's. During her time as Tony's assistant, she had noticed how he reacted to physical contact with mixed results. He tensed when strangers touched him but he was oddly cuddly when he was with people he liked, such as Pepper and Rhodey.

Clint was running his fingers absently through Tony's thick hair, tugging gently at wayward tangles, while Steve was alternating between drumming his fingers on Tony's calves and rubbing his feet. It was almost as if none of them were aware of what they were doing, as if it was a natural thing. Natasha knew that for Clint, it actually was; he would play with anyone's hair without thinking about it, years of soothing her on missions that way ingrained into him.

By the end of the movie, Tony was fast asleep, a first for him. The others often fell asleep during movie night, exhaustion and being able to relax taking over to lull them into slumber, but Tony had never relaxed far enough to let his brain shut off around the others. It was a sign of his slow trust in them that he had allowed himself to sleep and in response, Bruce simply put in Titanic, the movie they would all fall asleep to, and settled a blanket over the billionaire.

"He looks so harmless when he's sleeping," commented Steve softly.

"So does a dragon, I'm sure," relied Natasha with a smile.

***Hey. So I'm just writing these for fun when I have just long enough to write a bit but not long enough to write a lot, hence why the chapters are kinds short. Hope you're annoying it so far. **

**If you have any requests, just let me know and I'll see what I can do. I'm not great at romance, fair warning, but I will try and I am not opposed to really any pairing.**

**Always- Ari**


	6. Drugged

**Drugged**

"Jokes on you," said Tony from his spot bound to the wooden chair. "Drugging me isn't going to get the reaction you want."

"Stark, shut up," hissed Natasha over the screen, her eyes flitting around the tablet as she searched for any clues that would get them Tony's location faster.

"Two minutes," whispered Bruce from his computer just out of sight of Natasha.

The call had come in ten minutes ago onto the tablet. At first, it was the usual recorded threats in exchange for a life, then there were images flashing through of Tony, bound and being tortured, until they eventually settled on Stark in the chair via live feed.

"This isn't a drug you're familiar with," said the deep voice of a man from behind a smiley face mask. "It's one of my own making. It'll trap you in your mind, making you relive your worst nightmares. They'll appear real, you won't know where you are, and all your friends can do is watch as you scream and thrash and make a fool of yourself."

"To what end?" asked Tony, eyeing the needle as it made a slow approach to his arm. "What can you possibly gain from this? You can't win, you know that."

"I get to watch you suffer like I had to suffer when my son was sent to war and killed with your weapons," snapped the man before he stabbed the needle into Tony's arm and let the mint green liquid flow into his system.

Then he walked away, shutting and locking the door.

The Avengers waited with bated breath for the drugs to take effect. Bruce still scanned the map as Jarvis steadily narrowed down the possible location list, Clint flew in the direction of the red zone, Natasha studied the other person on the other side of the screen, and Steve secured the parachute around his frame, ready to jump out if there wasn't a safe place to land.

On the screen, Tony was frozen, eyes closed,the only indication that he was alive being the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. The didn't even twitch, gave no sign that he could feel, he just sat there breathing.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Steve, looking over Natasha's shoulder at the screen. "Shouldn't the drug have taken hold of his mind by now?"

"Got it!" yelled Bruce, shouting exact coordinates to Clint.

They flew faster than was legal to the location, all more worried by Tony's lack of response than they would have been had he been screaming. Yelling, waving arms, and cursing were normal for the billionaire, silence was not.

(In the room)

Just before the needle had entered his arm, Tony had retreated into his mind, which he had set up like a castle. When he was younger, he had organized his mind like a computer, setting up files and icons to find quickly. Everything was in order, had a place, and was well labeled. It had stayed that way, new files and icons being created as needed, until Obidiah had him kidnapped. In that cave, he had to quickly reorder his mind to fit the situation. He knew that torture was coming, knew there was a reason he was kept alive, so before he had opened his eyes initially, he had taken down all the files and icons in his mind and made it into a castle.

Every file got a room, each category got a wing, and when the torture finally came, Tony managed to hide in his safe room, empty of anything but a marker an equations, away from the pain and demands. The walls were filled with his own plans, scribbled in various colored markers, but they kept him calm.

He knew the drugs would open all the locked doors of his mind, there were lots of rooms he h ad vowed never to open and risk unleashing what was inside, but he knew the drugs would do just that, so in an attempt to avoid the pain and fear he had already lived through, Tony had shut his eyes, retreated into mis mind castle, and ran down the red carpeted halls to his safe room, slamming and locking the thick door an instant before the needle pierced his skin.

When he looked around the room, he was taken aback and moderately worried that he had entered the wrong room- as unlikely as that was. The walls held equations and plans, markers were strewn about where he had left them the last time he visited, but for the first time, he was not alone.

"Well shit," said Tony, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess the drug is stronger than I thought."

"You know, for a genius you're a right idiot sometimes," said Clint with his smirk.

"We're here because it's your safe place," explained Bruce, always the helpful one. "You trust us to keep you safe so we're here to do that."

"That's stupid," said Tony, sitting tailor style on the floor, fingers drumming absently. "I don't even like you guys all that much. Why on earth would I expect you to keep me safe?"

"You don't," said Steve, crouching next to Tony, his voice soft and understanding, melting against Tony's ears until he decided to make his next AI's voice sound like Steve's. "Bruce isn't entirely wrong, you do trust us in battle to keep you safe. But you have us here in your safe place because you want to keep us from harm."

"Why on earth would I want to do something like that?"

"Because you care about us," teased Clint, only half joking. "You like us, you want to protect us, you're just a big softy."

Tony stuck out his tongue in a mature fashion, the sounds of his mind outside the room increasing to an indistinguishable dull roar as memory after repressed memory were released from their rooms.

"This is an impressive room," said Natasha, looking around in appreciation, talking more to keep Tony for worrying about the chaos outside. "Why did you build it?"

"It's not safe out there, so I needed a place to hide," shrugged Tony.

"I always pegged you for a computer setup kind of guy," admitted Clint, perching on a shelf that was built in the corner. "This is set up like a spy's mind."

"What do you mean?" asked Bruce as he studied the equations on the wall.

"Well, your mind is probably organized like a computer, am I right? You have different files set up for information."

"Yes."

"And Steve's mind would look like a map because he thinks in strategy. Each section of the map has different information."

"Okay."

"But Tony has his mind set up like a spy, like Natasha and I. He has rooms, locked doors, wings, and a safe room. That's not natural. That's something normally only spy's have to withstand torture."

"Did I not tell you about the time I was kidnapped and asked to make weapons?" said Tony, one eyebrow raising in surprise.

"It's not in your file," said Steve, almost accusingly.

"Yes well that's because I deleted it," smirked Tony. "That file was boring, so I added dragons instead. Dragons are cool."

"No, bow ties are cool," said Clint.

"The point is," said Tony loudly. "I got kidnapped a few years back. I knew they were going to ask me to build them weapons, so I had to build rooms before they could."

"You build yourself a castle without training?"

"I'm Tony Stark, I do what I want."

Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Steve waited.

"Look it was either reorganize my mind or be shattered by some crazy men in a cave," hedged Tony. "This seemed like the better option, though now I'm not so sure, considering I never meant for anyone else to get in."

"We're figments of your imagination," said Natasha. "We're only here because you want us here. You want us safe."

The rest of his mind was pounding at the door, making Tony cringe, holding his head as if that would stop it. The drug wanted to take hold of him completely and he was loosing his grip, the walls of his safe room shaking.

"Tony, you can do this," said Steve, getting up and bracing his shoulders against the door. "You're stronger than this."

"You're the one who said you knew guys worth ten of me," snapped Tony, his body trembling with the effort of keeping the rest of his mind out.

"I was wrong," said Steve. "I'm sorry. But you've got to fight this. You can do it, Stark. You're not alone this time."

Tony peeked out from his hands, taking in the scene around him. Thor was bracing the ceiling with his massive hands. Bruce was poised in the far corner of the room, staring intently at the door, ready to spring into action should the need arise. Clint was still in his perch, bow at the ready. Natasha was crouched next to Tony in a protective stance, and Steve was still pushed against the door, trying to keep out the horrors he hadn't known existed in his comrades mind.

The was the last thing Tony saw before the room exploded in a black mess.

(With the Avengers)

"Why isn't he moving?" questioned Steve. "He should be moving by now, right?"

"Not all of us are super soldiers," snapped Clint. "It's only been a few hours."

The Avengers had arrived just minutes after the drug was administered to Tony, catching the would be villain on his exit and getting Tony immediate medical assistance in the form of Bruce, who had taken it upon himself to become an actual medical doctor after the events in New York three years before. His main motivation had come after living with Tony for a few months and learning of his extreme aversion to doctors or hospitals.

Tony was on the couch of the Avenger Tower, unaware of the world around him as he had been since he had been found several hours before.

"I'm putting on a movie," said Natasha, unable to sit still any longer. "Looks like we're in for a long night. Right Bruce?"

"It's difficult to say," said Bruce, sitting in his usual armchair. "The drug wore off about thirty minutes ago, so I have to assume his mind is trying to decide if it's safe to come out yet. Tony can be stubborn, so it could take a while."

Natasha put in a bad monster movie entitled Sea Beast and settled on the couch, pulling Tony's head into her lap so she could pet his hair. Clint sprawled out on top of the couch, one hand resting on Natasha's shoulder more to ground himself with the family feeling of her than for balance. Steve sat at the other end of the couch, Tony's feet in his lap, using the heat coming off the smaller mans body to remind him the they were all alive and safe, if a little worse for wear. Bruce stayed in his armchair, away from the others but close enough to be aware of every movement.

They were half way through the movie when Tony blinked open his eyes. The scene around him was so familiar, so ordinary, that he was uncertain of where his reality was.

"Was that a really sick dream?" asked Tony quietly to himself.

"If you mean the part where you got yourself kidnapped, tortured, and drugged, no," said Natasha quietly. "But we saved your ass like usual."

"So not a dream," yawned Tony, snuggling more into the warmth the surrounded him. "Good to know."

"I'm glad you're okay," said Bruce, smiling from his chair. "You gave us a scare."

"Why didn't the drug work on you?" asked Steve, patting Tony's shin gently. "You just sort of froze."

"I did try to warn him that it wouldn't work the way he wanted," said Tony. "No one ever listens to me though."

"If you don't shut your mouth I'm going to stitch it shut with one of my arrows," threatened Clint, which was almost like him saying he was happy everything worked out. "Seriously, you're ruining the movie."

"You can't ruin what's already broken," muttered Tony. He wasn't sure if he was talking about the movie or himself.


	7. That One Time

That One Time

The room was far larger than he remembered it being. That was the first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes. The second was that his chest felt heavy, his arms weak, and his head sore.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Cap," said Tony, swimming into Steve's line of vision. "Population is you and me right now."

"Everyone else is dead?" yelled Steve, sitting up in a way that made his head rush.

"Whoa, easy Princess," said Tony, steadying the captain with a hand at his shoulder. "I meant that we are the only two awake currently in this room. Clint's still out cold."

Steve looked around the room, visually confirming that Clint was indeed out cold a few feet away, before turning back to look up at Tony. But that couldn't be right. He never looked up at Tony. Tony was shorter than him by quite a bit so that even sitting, Steve could normally rest his chin on the top of Tony's head-if he was so inclined.

"What's wrong with me?" asked Steve, looking down at skinny limbs and frail hands.

"We were on a mission," said Tony, his voice almost sorry. "I'm sorry, I should have been quicker but we were captured. They used some gas that knocked you and Hawkeye out and turned you back to preserum you. But no worries, from what I could determine, it won't take, it's just a matter of time."

Steve looked down in shame at his own body. Tony continued to speak but Steve had quit listening because as much as he appreciated. Ow Tony didn't seem to mind his slight form, Steve certainly did.

The door to the cell swung open, revealing four -for lack of better word- thugs.

"Ah, seems you have company again," said one man who seemed to be the leader if the way the other three stood half a step behind him was any indication.

"Your powers of observation are noteworthy," replied Tony easily, though Steve noticed how the inventors eyes flitted around intelligently, taking in every detail at lightning speed.

"What do you want?" demanded Steve, his voice more firm than his muscles.

"Just to ask you a few questions, Captain," said the leader calmly.

"Hey, I thought it was my turn to chat with you," pouted Tony. "And here I was so looking forward to our talk."

As it always seemed to do in similar situations, it struck Steve at how he had underestimated Tony Stark the first time they had met. Steve had assumed he was a self centered billionaire who couldn't care less for others if he was paid. The Captain had assumed that in the face of danger, Tony would prove to be a coward and run, yet there the man stood, staring danger in the eye and purposefully pissing it off to keep the attention on him and not his compromised team mates.

"Plus, with all my classified knowledge, I am generally more loquacious than the majority of the population," smiled Tony, sealing his own fate.

It wasn't until they shut the door that Steve realized what Tony had done; Tony had taken his place to be tortured for information. At first, Steve wanted to be offended; he could handle himself, no serum and all. After a moment though, he realized that Tony would have done it anyway. Tony was brilliant but as the entire team had learned, the man had the self preservation instincts of a mayfly.

"What the hell did we get into this time?" groaned Clint, blinking his eyes open and holding his head.

"How are you feeling?" asked Steve, moving over to crouch by the archer.

"Better than you look," said Clint, sitting up. "What happened to you?"

Steve grimaced. "The gas reverted my body back to its pre serum form. Tony said it'll wear off."

"I see why you wanted the change," said Clint. For all outside appearances, it looked like Clint stretched and cracked his neck, however, Steve knew the assassin was assessing their surroundings and taking a mental inventory of their collective well being. "Where is the idiot anyone?"

"They took him for questioning about 10 minutes ago."

Clint grunted in acknowledgement. It wasn't an ideal situation but if he was going to put his money on any of the three of them to withstand torture, he would place it on Tony every time. For all that the billionaire was a civilian pain in the ass, he was remarkably resilient and his genius allowed him to create convincing lies. The odds were also in Tony's favor for their captors needing him to build something, so they would be careful not to kill him.

The door opened and Tony's limp body was tossed in before the door was slammed shut again with enough force to cause dust to fall off the walls.

"I'm starting to think they don't like me," mumbled Tony as Clint and Steve helped him into a sitting position.

He looked a mess as best, his nice suit jacket gone, shirt soaked and clinging to his torso, pants ripped, skin bruised and bloodied, and his left leg was sitting as an unnatural angle.

"You should've let them take me, Tony," said Steve softly, looking over a particularly nasty gash.

"Come on, with your asthma, you never would have had a hope with the water boarding," replied Tony with a half smirk. "Besides, they need to keep me alive. Right now, you're a lot easier to kill in your current condition. They'd have no fun, this way they have to try to kill you when you're all big again. Much more of a challenge. Whoa! What the hell, Robin Hood?"

Clint didn't even look up from his inspection of Tony's leg.

"You've managed to get fucked up pretty badly," stated Clint. "You're of no use with that leg."

"Tut, tut," clucked Tony, shaking his head with a sly smile that normally meant trouble for one of more parties. "Keep up those rude comments and I won't be sharing this set of keys I lifted off the guards with you. Nor will I let you have this fully loaded hand gun."

"You son of a bitch," said Clint, snatching the gun with a grin.

Steve grabbed the keys and stood. The sudden movement made his vision black for a moment, pain shooting through his limbs. When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand why the other two were staring at him.

"Looks like someone put their big boy pants back on," said Tony.

Indeed, when Steve looked down he could tell he was back to his normal height. A large grin spread across his face as he felt more in control of the situation.

"Where's the exit?" asked Steve in his best Captain America voice.

"Out the door, turn left, down the hall 42 regular people paces, turn right, three yards down and there it is. Unguarded except for one guy but he's allergic to bullets in the head, I think."

"It's almost too easy," said Clint, helping Tony to his feet, taking the mans weight.

"Yes well, they underestimate Steve. Serum or not, he's a force to be reconnect with. Also, they were stupid enough to keep us together, of course they put us by the exit. I bet it also helps that this isn't their main exit, so to them it's the back of the bus."

"I'll take him, you take point, Hawkeye," said Steve, unlocking the door before taking Tony from Clint after receiving a nod from the archer.

Whatever would happen after the door opened, Steve knew he would never forget how it felt to be small again, to need to be protected as much as he hated it, and how Tony and Clint had stepped up to do so, neither making a show of it nor treating him like an invalid as so many before had. No matter what, the three of them had entered a new level of trust born from understanding that some weaknesses didn't need to be talked about to acknowledge them.

*This was requested...sort of. They wanted a Steve-reverts-back fic.

Requests always welcomed. I shouldn't be left alone and expected to be quiet. Always- Ari


	8. End of the World

**End of the World**

Tony Stark knew a lot of things-he was a genius after all-and he could reason out the rest.

"That's Tony Stark?" clarified Natasha, looking down at the genius, who had been transformed back into his three year old body.

Tony blinked up at her, young face blank, silent. It wasn't as though he didn't want to talk, his mind was bubbling with various things to say, but he couldn't bring himself to say any of them because if he did, then he would hear how small and squeaky it was, and that would be worse than actually turning into his three year old body. Tony was used to being smaller than the rest of his teammates, he was used to being smaller than the majority of men, but what he had lacked in size he had made up in volume. With an even smaller body than usual and a matching voice, it would be more than he was ready to handle, so he kept his silence.

"Yes," said Fury, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "Turns out that spell had a bit more of a kick than we originally thought."

"How long is it supposed to last?" asked Steve, shield thrown over his shoulder.

"It wasn't even supposed to happen, how am I supposed to know when it will wear off?" snapped Fury. "Look, just take the brat and get out of my sight. I have too much to deal with without adding a baby Stark to the list."

"What are we supposed to do with him?" said Clint, eyeing Tony as if he would blow up or bite.

"Take him home, take care of him, I don't know, just go deal with him away from here," said Fury.

Tony wanted to protest, to say he wasn't a brat, that he was right there, and to not talk about him as if he didn't understand, but he didn't. He just stood there.

"Tony," said Steve cautiously, crouching down to be eye level with the tot. "We're going home now, okay?"

The urge to yell at Steve for talking down to him was intense, but he fought it down because, oddly enough, he liked the care that was infused with the voice, as if Steve were asking his permission to go instead of demanding or ordering like he normally did.

"How much does he know or remember?" asked Natasha.

"I'm assuming that since he isn't talking or protesting every other word we say, that he was reverted back to his old self entirely," said Clint with a smile. "A three year old Stark, help us all."

Experimentally, Tony lifted his arms in the universal sign for up. Steve picked him up stiffly and Tony looked around with interest. The view from Steve's normal height was different. He could see the top of Natasha's hair and the way the lights bounced off of Fury's bald head. Tony wasted no time in squirming his way onto Steve's shoulders so he could see even more.

"So Baby Stark has just as little fear as regular Stark," laughed Clint. "This could be fun."

As Steve began walking, Tony swayed at the sadden movement and gripped Steve's blonde hair in his pudgy hands, pulling slightly to keep steady. He found he liked being so tall and also not having to walk everywhere. The entire situation freaked him out, he was beginning to realize that he would have to depend on people for help in his current situation, but for the moment, he decided he was going to enjoy the ride. After all, it wasn't every day that he got to ride on Captain America's shoulders.

At the Tower, Tony was set down and followed the others into the kitchen. There, he ran in to an obstacle. The chair towered over him because even at three, he had been insultingly small for his age. Still, never to be deterred, Tony began to crawl up the thing because he was going to sit in the chair.

He was almost to the top when his foot slipped and he went toppling back to the ground, hitting it with a smack, the impact stinging his hands and arms. For a moment, there was silence in the kitchen, and then Tony felt the most embarrassing thing begin to happen. It was as if the full impact of the entire situation was hitting him for the first time. Everything compounded on each other until finally, he could no longer take it, the fall off of a simple chair acting as the straw that broke the camels back, and he began to cry.

The tears were silent, sliding down his ruddy cheeks, because Tony had always been told that Stark men didn't cry and if he had to cry, it had better be silent. So Tony sat on the ground, pink lip out in an adorable pout, tiny tears slipping down his cheeks like the salty little traitors they were, betraying his emotions to his team mates who already knew he was human.

"Tony," said Clint softly, surprising the others by being the first to move to crouch by the fallen boy. "Hey buddy, you're okay."

Clint reached out a hand to wipe one of the tears but Tony flinched; he couldn't help it, it had been years since he had cried and the last time it happened, Howard had hit him for it and told him to shut up. Being small and surrounded by those who could easily kill him, was almost worse.

"Easy there, little guy," said Clint, internally seething at the flinch because kids as a rule feared little and craved physical contact, they wanted to be comforted, and they only flinched when they had been hurt before. "I am just going to see your hands and see if you have an ouch, okay?"

When Clint reached for Tony's hands, the little boy didn't flinch. He let them be drawn away from his chest and allowed Clint to gently uncurl them from their little fists. They only stung and were red, the fall hadn't been high enough to cause real damage.

"Just a bit red buddy," said Clint with his easy grin. "You'll be just fine. How about we go watch a movie in the living room? You can pick."

Tony nodded slowly, sniffing to stop his tears, even though he knew the sniffing went with his nose and tears came from north of there. Then, just out of curiosity, he tried the new trick he had learned and held up his arms, this time to Clint. The archer blinked in surprise but took it in stride, picking up Tony and holding him to his hard chest. Tony laid his head on Clint's shoulder, tears having tired him out.

"He likes me best," smirked Clint, sticking out his tongue smugly at the others. "Suck it."

"He doesn't talk much, does he?" said Bruce, moving to pop popcorn.

"Maybe he doesn't know how to yet," said Steve, placing cups on a tray along with various beverages that the Avengers enjoyed.

"Tony Stark, the boy genius, doesn't know how to talk at age three?" said Natasha. "Doubtful. It's more likely that he can talk but has mentally blocked the ability to cope with the situation at hand. Think about it, the kid woke u[ surrounded by strangers and forced to go with them. He's got to be scared."

"Or maybe he just doesn't have a lot to say," said Clint on the couch with Tony. "Maybe young Stark didn't use words as a defense. Maybe that was a trick he picked up when he was older. Maybe he's just waiting for you lot to leave before he talks to me, his clear favorite. There are lot's of what if's but I want to watch a movie now, so get in here."

Tony pointed when Clint clicked past Sherlock.

"Tony pick's Sherlock!" yelled Clint.

"He's too young for that," said Steve, setting the tray on the coffee table. "Pick a kids movie."

"No, I told him he could pick and he picked Sherlock."

"He's three, just put on something else."

"I promised. If you don't like it, you don't have to watch. Tony and I are going to, though. Everyone is free to join."

Tony sat cross legged and stared intently at the television as if that would magically make it begin the show. He knew that he could just ask Jarvis to play it but asking Jarvis would require him to open his mouth and speak and speaking would mean he heard his voice for the first time and hearing his voice would make it all too real and if he reacted to a simple fall with tears, he didn't want to know how he would take hearing his high pitched squeaky kid voice.

As the show finally began, Tony decided to see what Natasha would do to him if he tried to sit with her. Usually, she was not a touchy feely person and avoided physical contact for the most part. However, in his current state, Tony was curious to see if she would push him away, stiffen up, or flat out demand someone remove him from her side.

What he was not expecting was for Natasha to pull the blue blanket from over the back of the couch and lay it over him, smoothing his hair. With a soft sigh, Tony relaxed, blinked his eyes at the soothing rhythm, his brain quieting as he fell asleep.

When he woke up, he was in his bed. It wasn't much later, the sky outside his window was just starting to dim into the deep royal blue before night truly set in. The room was too big, too empty, and too quiet. Tony crawled off of the bed, which felt like was a mile but was in reality about three feet, and fell to the floor before he toddled out, back into the hallway. Jarvis lit the way with dim lights. The others were still in the television room watching Doctor Who. Without a word-which was becoming his norm- Tony climbed onto the couch where Clint was laying and curled into his side to watch. No one spoke, Clint merely pulled his tiny teammate onto his chest to be more comfortable, Steve tossed them a blanket, and they all settled down.

The rise and fall of Clint's chest and the beat of his heart was so calming that he couldn't help drifting to sleep. Unconsciously, Tony burrowed further into his chest, tiny fingers curling around the clean fabric of the archers shirt as if he was afraid he would disappear.

"Tony's cuddly," said Bruce. "It's sort of cute."

"This taking care of a kid thing is easy," said Steve. "I don't know what everyone is complaining about."

"You'd better hope he doesn't start talking," said Natasha with a smile.

"No, talking would be fun," corrected Clint softly so as not to wake his charge. "What you'd better hope is that we don't get called into action while he's small."

As soon as he said the words, the call to assemble sounded.

***There will be a second part. Always- Ari**


	9. Wishes

**Wishes**

It was part of the job, he understood that, really he did. And he it wasn't that he was worried for her safety because he knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself. His own insecurities were not even the issue; he was confident enough in their relationship, his trust in her so unwavering that her being unfaithful never even crossed his mind, even on the worst days.

No, it all came down to the fact that he missed her when she was gone. Plain and simple.

So when the 13 month mark hit and Tony was sitting at his second birthday bash without her, he couldn't help wondering when he would be allowed to disappear back into his workshop. The party was small with only his fellow Avengers, Rhodey, and a few other friends, for which he was grateful; he didn't think he was up to a public affair. Still, his smile was fake, his laughter forced, and try as he might, he couldn't stop thinking about how he was surrounded by people he loved and who loved him but the only person he really wanted to be with was still out on a mission, the longest mission of their relationship.

"Tony, it's time for the cake," said Clint with his wicked grin.

"Try to smile for the pictures," hissed Pepper in his ear warningly. "She'll want to see you happy when she sees them."

Tony bit back the comment about how when she got back, Natasha would know his smile in the pictures was fake from a mile and a half away.

"Happy birthday," began the intimate crowd, pulling in around Tony and the cake that held a single candle in the center.

As they sang, Tony thought about how fitting it was that there was only one candle on his cake. No matter how old he was turning, he only had one wish.

"Make a wish!" shouted Clint, far more excited about cake than Tony thought was sociably acceptable.

Nonetheless, Tony closed his eyes and focused all his energy on that single minded wish, and while he knew that logically wishing would not make her come home faster or magically appear, he wished with all his immense brain power because he was desperate with missing her and would take all the help he could get from any power, real or imagined. With a deep breath, he opened his eyes and prepared to blow out that single candle.

Only to have a flash of color bouncing in the dim light on his right catch his attention and make him glance for just half a second away from the cake.

Suddenly, the cake was the last thing on his mind.

"Natasha!" said Tony, her name coming out as more of a strangled yelp he would later deny making but was too busy being shocked at the moment to care.

Natasha smiled at him, her real, beautiful, genuine, rare smile, relief at finally completing her 13 month mission there but bypassed by her joy of being home at last.

Then Tony had his arms around her, taking the master assassin by surprise, and was kissing her lips in a passionate kiss that told just how much he missed her, the rest of the room forgotten as she kissed him back. It was several long minutes before Tony pulled away, gasping for air but refusing to let go of his girlfriend. He contented himself with just looking at her, studying her face for the first time in the flesh in over a year.

"You're back," said Tony quietly, unable to keep the stupid grin off his face, not that he really tried.

"Happy birthday," whispered Natasha, her arms around his neck.

"You said you'd only be gone six months," said Tony, not a hint of accusation in his voice.

"People were being particularly idiot this time," shrugged Natasha, the apology she couldn't speak written in her eyes. "You know how much longer things take when you're working with idiots."

Tony just shook his head and bent down to kiss her again.

"Um, I hate to break up this little reunion, but I really want cake," said Clint.

Tony and Natasha threw their middle fingers up in the archers general direction at the same time, not bothering to break their kiss. Bruce and Steve both laughed loudly.

"The candle is getting wax on the cake," whined Clint. "Nat, I'm glad you're back, really I am, maybe now Tony will quit keeping us all up every night with his nightmares, but seriously, couldn't you have waited to surprise him until after he blew out the candle?"

Steve smacked Clint over the head as a look of concern crossed Natasha's face.

"How bad have they been?" she asked quietly, guilt settling in her stomach; she knew Tony suffered from nightmares, residual effects of his past and one of the many reasons he rarely slept.

"You're home now," said Tony, kissing her forehead. "Don't worry about it. Clint is just being a baby."

"Tony," said Natasha, wanting to push the issue.

"I missed you," whispered Tony, his soft tone cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too."

Finally, Natasha pulled away from her boyfriend, far enough to face the others and greet them properly but close enough for Tony to keep a possessive arm wrapped around her waist.

"Glad to have you back," said Steve with his charming, all American smile.

"Glad to be back," said Natasha warmly.

"Yeah, yeah," said Clint, waving his hands in the air. "We're all happy you're back, we can hug and kiss and all that shit after we take care of this cake."

The archer fooled no one; they all could easily see the relief at having Natasha back at the Tower and in his sights, he was just an ass at conveying that message.

"Tony, you'd better blow out that candle before Clint has an aneurism," cautioned Bruce.

Tony studied all of his teammates and friends, his gaze falling on Natasha last, before he reached out with his callused fingers and snuffed out the flickering flame.

"What the hell?" yelled Clint, already pulling a knife from his belt, ready to cut the cake like a savage. "You made me wait that long and you didn't even make a wish and blow out the damn candle."

Tony shrugged, his customary smirk in place, real for the first time in ages.

"I didn't have a wish to make anymore," said Tony, his arm tightening around Natasha, who looked at him with eyes full of wonder, not that Tony noticed because he was gazing right back at her with the same look.

***Hey! Someone requested the there be one with Natasha and Tony as a couple, so here it is.**

**Always- Ari**


	10. End of the World Pt 2

"We can't just leave him unsupervised," snapped Bruce. "Look, I'll stay with him while you guys take care of this mess."

"Jarvis is here," reasoned Steve. "If we just lock him in a bedroom, he'll probably fall back asleep and Jarvis will notify us if anything goes wrong."

Tony wanted to yell at them for wasting time. He wanted to summon his suit and get out there, protect people, because he still had a lifetime of wrongs to right. But he was essentially a selfish creature and couldn't bring himself to speak and hear his young voice. Instead, he went and crawled under the couch.

"Look, just go, I'm tired, you have the Hulk, you'll be fine," said Clint, throwing up his hands. "I'm taking a nap. Have fun saving the world again."

Natasha met Clint's eyes and nodded.

"Come on," said Natasha in her even voice. "The faster we stop whatever villain decided to try their luck, the faster we can get some food."

"I'll order pizza and have it hear by the time you get back," said Clint with a grin, moving back to the couch.

The others left as Clint sat down on the ground, leaning to the floor so he could peak at the toddler hiding under it.

"Hey Tony," said Clint with a grin. "You want to come on out now, buddy?"

Tony shook his head. The alarm was still blaring and it hurt his sensitive ears that had not had decades of loud music and explosives to dull it. To get his message across without words, he put his little hands over his ears. It did little to muffle the sound.

"Jarvis, cut the alarm please," said Clint.

"Right away," said Jarvis.

The alarm cut off mid whine. Slowly, Tony eased his hands away from his ears as if he was afraid it was a joke and the noise would start again the moment he let his guard down.

"Come on, Buddy," said Clint. "If you come out, I'll let you play with-"

The room exploded, glass window shattering inward, noise reverberating off the walls, Clint covered his head as debris rained around and Tony was dragged back with the couch, small body bumping painfully as he went. Before the rubble had settled, Clint was up, activating his bow, which he had close at hand because of the alarm, eyes scanning the scene for danger.

Tony, stuck under the ruined couch, one large piece sticking out of his left arm while a gash on his foot throbbed angrily. He could feel his toddler emotions betraying him again, fighting against all reason for him to scream and cry even though his mind could reason out that the pain was from his injuries and crying would do nothing for them.

Then people were pouring in from the hole in the wall and Clint was shooting them while Tony could only look on with wide eyes, distracted momentarily from his pain by seeing the archer in action. But that distraction cost him because suddenly he was in the air, the arms of a stranger wrapped around his already injured left arm and if there was anything more frightening than being turned back into a toddler, it was being turned back into a toddler and someone trying to kidnap you.

The pain in his arm combined with the unknown man attempting to take him away from his home by force made Tony scream out in a decidedly high pitched, terrifyingly painful yelp.

What the would-be kidnapper had not planned on was Tony Stark fighting back. The man had clearly never tried to hold on to an upset toddler before, because Tony's sudden movements caused him to drop the child in surprise after just a few seconds. As soon as he was on the ground, Tony was off, scrambling through the debris and wreckage of the room to latch on to Clint's left ankle. The archer spared the young Avenger a glance, more to confirm that the sudden slight weight on his foot was indeed Tony, before deftly shooting an arrow through the eye of the man who had scared the boy so.

Their assailants were dwindling in numbers quickly because even caught off guard and virtually alone, Clint was more deadly than the eleven men and women who had foolishly broken into the home of the collective Avengers. The final two villains Clint shot to kill, his patience gone due to the trembling mass he could feel attached to his leg; people who harmed children had no place in the world, even if keeping them alive would help Clint find out who sent them.

The silence that usually followed a fight was absent, sniffling and near silent sobs taking its place. Clint scooped Tony up and relocated them to a bedroom off the hall, locking the door and asking Jarvis to keep an eye on the attackers, set to alert Hawkeye if any of them moved.

Tony, for his part, clung to Clint as if his life depended on it. For all his genius, he could not stop crying and shaking nor the irrational fear that someone was going to try to take him away again and he would be powerless to stop them. Even when Clint attempted to pry him off to check over his wounds, Tony refused to let go, only gripping the archers shirt more tightly and burrowing further into his shoulder. Part of it was because Tony didn't want Clint to see him in such a way, his pride smarting at the thought, but most of it was the irrational fear of abandonment.

"It's okay," soothed Clint softly. "You're okay now. I've got you. I'm not going to let anyone take you away. I just want to check you over for any ouches, okay? So I need you to let go now, Tony."

Tony shook his head.

"Tony, come on," said Clint, gently tugging the little boy away from where he was trying to become one with Clint's shoulder. "Let me see."

Too small to match the archers strength, Tony was pulled from his haven and could finally see that he had ruined Clint's shirt with the blood from his wounds. The tiny billionaire would have felt bad about that if he hadn't been busy blinking the tears out of his eyes.

"Bruce is going to kill me," groaned Clint when he saw the damage done to the littlest member of the Avengers. "I had one job, keep you safe, and I couldn't even do that. Jarvis?"

"Yes, Master Barton?" came the ready reply.

"Would you patch me through to the group comms?" said Clint, leaning back against the headboard of the bed, adrenalin draining from his body.

"Of course," said the AI.

"You guys almost done?" called Clint when the sounds of fighting entered the room via speakers.

"Depends," grunted Steve. "Have you ordered that pizza yet?"

"No, I was a little busy fighting off a group of idiots that thought it'd be a good idea to blow a hole in our living room and kidnap Stark for good measure," snapped Clint, not in the mood to deal with anyone's sass.

"Wait, what?" said Steve and Clint and Tony could almost see the super soldier standing up a bit straighter.

"You heard me, Captain," said Clint. "Some idiots blew a hole in the living room. They didn't survive long but they did try to take Stark."

"Is he okay?" asked Natasha.

"Banner will want to take a look at him," admitted Clint.

"ETA is twelve minutes," said Steve.

"Roger."

The line was ended and Clint looked down at the toddler still sitting in his lap. Tony had taken the distraction to once against curl up close to Clint and the assassin found he didn't have the heart to move him again. Tony, instead, was mildly interested in a distant way to discover how truly cuddly he was. The older, logical part of his mind knew it was due to being touch starved and ignored as a child, but the toddler portion of his brain was just concerned with having the physical reassurance that he was not alone, that someone was there to care for him. When Clint began combing through Tony's hair absently, Tony closed his eyes, the pain receding slightly as exhaustion and the soothing sensation of his hair being finger combed lulled him into a peaceful slumber.


	11. Threats of Protection

**Threat of Protection**

"So wait, you mean to tell me that SHEILD went and collapsed, you both were in the thick of it, part of the reason things went to hell in a hand basket was because of hacked technology, and no one thought to call me?" ranted Tony, throwing his hands in the air as he paced in front of Natasha and Steve, both of whom were sitting on a couch in his tower looking a little worse for wear.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you didn't know a single thing about that?" said Steve. "You, who took the time to hack into SHIELD's files in the middle of an alien invasion, didn't bother keeping an eye on the organization you clearly don't trust?"

"I was a little busy, Cap," snapped Tony, glaring daggers at him. "You do realize that I have a company that I am responsible for, right? Plus my own personal projects. Also, I have new tech to invent and test every single day. Yes, I have SHIELD monitored but I'm not interested in every damn thing they do."

"We didn't invite Clint or Banner either, if that makes you feel better," said Natasha with a lazy yawn.

"Yes but Hawkeye is in Alaska on some top secret mission that really should be better protected and Banner is off being a goody-two shoes, so of course you wouldn't invite either of them. But I was right there! You should have called!"

"Stop acting like such a girl," said Natasha.

Tony pouted and sat down.

"But can you fix them?" asked Steve.

"Yes I can fix them," said Tony. "But next time I expect a formal invitation to the world saving party. I'm tired of stumbling into these things. I'm a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist for crying out loud! I deserve a damn invitation."

"It's not like you invited us to help when the Mandarin was after you."

"That's different, I was supposed to be dead. Also, JARVIS was down most of the time, I couldn't contact you. Besides, you're Captain Fucking America, I thought you'd show up when the President of the United States got fucking kidnapped! Excuse me for having to do your damn job."

They glared at each other for several long, drawn out minutes in which Natasha lost interest and fell asleep, exhaustion coupled with being in a safe environment taking over.

"I'm sorry about not being there when you needed me," said Steve softly, looking down. "And I'm sorry I didn't call for your help when SHIELD went to hell. I didn't think."

"Don't let it happen again," said Tony with a curt nod, which was as good as an apology as he was willing to give.

Tony picked up the mangled bits of wings, tossed a blanket over Natasha's resting form, and nudged his own abandoned glass of water towards Steve, and left for his workshop.

"He's not such an ass after all," muttered Steve to himself, picking up the water.

"He's the most caring ass I know but he's still an ass," mumbled Natasha, keeping her eyes closed. "That's why we came here, remember?"

Steve nodded, took a drink of the water, and went to the kitchen, intent on helping himself to the food he was sure Tony would have. The genius may not have thought eating on a regular basis was important to his survival, but Steve knew the Rhodey character he'd heard of knew better.

(in the workshop)

Tony picked away at the wings as he eyeballed the original plans from the so called secure basis he had broken in to.

"I can make this better," declared Tony to JARVIS.

He liked to talk while he was working. JARVIS recorded his verbal notes and quite frankly, Tony just seemed to enjoy the sound of his own voice more than silence. He hated silence. Silence reminded him too much of his past and his past was not a place he wanted to visit, and wanted to visit lot's of places.

"First, get rid of that pesky arm control of the wings," said Tony, waving away the control on his display. "That's just a pain in the ass. Recalibrate the equilibrium for a smaller pack as well, say one third the current size. Also, there has to be a better material for the ligaments. Try that stuff I made Black Widows cord from."

Tony worked well into the next day on the wings before he was satisfied with the result enough to give them back to Steve.

"Here you go, Cap," said Tony tossing a much smaller, lighter pack on to the table in front of Steve, who was eating a late lunch. "I took the liberty of making it not suck."

"Thanks," said Steve.

"You're not thinking about growing wings, are you? Or is this for your new best friend?"

"Jealous?" asked Steve, cocking an eyebrow to match his smirk.

"You wish, Spangles."

"It's for Sam, yes."

"When do I get to meet the Falcon in person? I feel like I've done enough reading of his classified files-don't give me that look, if they didn't want me to read them, they would have been better protected- to know the man on a level far more intimate than casual acquaintance."

"Tony, you don't even like people," said Rhodey, entering the kitchen as if he owned the place. "Stop pestering the old man."

"Rhodey, do you know Sam Wilson?" asked Tony, immediately turning his attention to his best friend. "You have to know him, he's in the military, or at least, he was. He's not anymore. Now he fancies himself as Captains side kick. Did you know we get side kicks now that we're super hero's? Because no one told me."

"No one in their right mind would ever sign up to be your sidekick, Stark," laughed Rhodey.

"I don't let people sign up, that's how you end up with crazy fan boys. No, you're my sidekick, obviously. I mean, you stole my suit and painted it different colors. That's pretty sidekick-ish to me."

"Yes, I know Sam," groaned Rhodey, knowing he was fighting a losing battle and questioning why he was friends with Tony in the first place. "We're actually pretty good friends."

"You have friends other than me? I thought I was special."

"You are special. You're the one who doesn't have any friends."

"I have friends."

"Pepper is your CEO, she's paid to put up with you. JARVIS and your robots don't count."

"Harley-"

"You can't count ten year olds who live across the country from you that you spoke with for one weekend."

"Ass!" yelled Tony, stomping off to pout in his room like the mature adult he was.

"You must be the famous Rhodey," said Steve, offering his hand to the man. "Steve Rogers."

"Colonel James Rhodes," said Rhodey, shaking the man's hand firmly. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too. Tony talks about you all the time."

"Probably unflattering things."

"Actually, he adores you."

Rhodey paused.

"He said that?"

"Not in so many words," admitted Steve. "But you can tell in the way he talks about you. It's like he thinks you hung the moon."

"He's a good guy," said Rhodey with a fond nod. "An ass, but a good guy all the same."

"I'm learning that."

"You should have learned it a long time ago," said Rhodey an edge to his voice that cut into Steve.

Steve shifted uncomfortably.

"So um, you heard about our argument on the helicarrier?" said Steve, rubbing the back of his neck that was suddenly too warm.

"You can't just say things like that to Tony," said Rhodey, defensive of his best friend. "He'll laugh it off but it kills him. Do you have any idea about what that man's been through? Cap, you got to sleep away the years that Howard changed but Tony had to live them first hand. You got turned into something bigger and stronger before you went overseas, which you volunteered to do, but Tony was forced into it by himself, without training or protection, and force his way out in a stream of fire. He's tried to be better since then. He shut down his weapons department immediately, he's cleaned up his act, he's tried every damn day to make up for things he never did and you have the nerve to tell him he's worthless? You were his childhood hero and you shattered that man. And yet here you stand, oblivious and in his home, which he didn't even question when you showed up needing a place to crash. And you're just now discovering he's a good guy?"

Steve had the good grace to look ashamed because everything Rhodey had said was right. He knew nothing about Tony Stark other than the rumors he'd heard and the few interactions they'd had. Each interaction had shown him an abrasive man with a brilliant mind and several lifetimes worth of words to say but they had also shown him a man who was not only willing to lay down on the wire but had done so multiple times. Tony had claimed he would cut the wire but Steve had quickly come to realize that the man simply did not believe in no-win scenarios.

Rhodey nodded, satisfied at the guilt Captain America showed for his actions. Then he bracingly put a hand on the teller man's shoulder.

"Lucky for you, Tony doesn't hold a grudge for the type of shit you pulled," said Rhodey, not mentioning the fact that Tony didn't hold a grudge because the billionaire honestly felt like he deserved it, because that part went without saying. "Unlucky for you, I do. So be careful with him, Cap. Because he may be willing to let you treat him that way, but I sure as hell am not."

Steve nodded his understand and Rhodey left, saying something about dragging his best friends sulking ass out to a charity function.

"He'd do it, too," said Natasha quietly.

"Shit!" cursed Steve, turning to face the assassin who had silently made her way to the other door to lean against the door frame. "Do what?"

"When Tony went missing for three months, abducted in the desert by a terrorist group, Rhodes did nothing but search for that insufferable man. He would have no problem making good on his threat should you hurt Tony again."

Strangely enough, Steve found that he wasn't worried by the threat, not because he felt like it wasn't a threat-he was sure Rhodey could kick his ass-but because he had no desire to ever harm the billionaire again. In fact, as he inspected the recently repaired and improved set of wings, he found himself quickly joining Rhodey in the pursuit to destroy anyone who would try to damage the intolerable ass that was the teams resident genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.

***Because really? Captain America should have showed up in Iron Man 3 when the president got involved. Also, Tony totally should have been called when SHIELD went haywire because um, tech genius, he could have stopped those missiles of endless doom. Always- Ari**


	12. I'm Yours

**I'm Yours**

Tony Stark was amazing at almost every single thing he did, if only because he had the attitude pull it off. He embodied the attitude of the "fake it until you make it" saying. He was great at almost everything. But almost was the key word and almost never cut it.

Steve had been amazing. He had thought of everything for their anniversary and Tony had nothing that could compare because out of all of the amazing things Tony Stark could do, he was horrible at romance.

Steve had taken him out to their favorite place for dinner, candles, roses, everything, a walk along the river in Paris because Steve knew how much Tony loved to travel, and ended it in the worlds most comfortable, classy hotel which was a castle. A castle. Steve had gotten them a night in a castle because Steve was wonderful and thoughtful and Tony didn't deserve him in the slightest. Laying nestled in Steve's arms in their giant bed in the castle- Tony could not get over the fact that they were in a castle- Tony had never felt more happy and unworthy at the same time.

"Steve?" said Tony after almost an hour of silence.

"Yes love?" said Steve softly, his fingers on his left hand tracing patterns over Tony's face, gently caressing his closed eyes.

"You touch these tired eyes of mine and map my face out line by line," said Tony, saying the words as they came to his mind, knowing he had to say them quickly or they would never get out, or he would over think them and Steve would never know how important he was to Tony. "And somehow it's perfect, and I've never felt more secure or loved in my life."

"Always," smiled Steve because the super soldier knew how difficult it was for his boyfriend to admit his feelings aloud. He knew Tony had been through the ringer emotionally and never once did he doubt that affection because while Tony rarely said it, he showed it every day in all of the things he did.

"I know that I'm sort of bad at these things," rambled Tony. "I mean, I'm practically allergic to feelings and you, you're amazing. You pretty much wrap your thoughts in works of art and the best I can do is hang them on the walls of my heart, but that's nothing compared to what you do. I mean, I may not have the softest touch, I may not say all those touchy feely words, I may not look like much, but I want you to know that I'm yours."

Tony snuggled closer and Steve could tell that it didn't end there.

"You healed my scars over time," whispered Tony, taking Steve's larger hand and moving it to trace the arc reactor, something that had taken him months to allow Steve to even see, let alone touch freely. "You embraced my soul when I wasn't even sure I had one left and you loved my mind when most end up hating me for it. You put up with my insanity, you've never given up on me, no matter how long it takes me to adjust. You're the only angel in my life."

Steve kissed the brown locks tickling his nose, unable to fully believe that the man he was holding was his to have and to hold. When they had first met, Steve had written Tony off as arrogant, self-centered, and obnoxious, everything he had heard he was. After watching him fly the nuke into the wormhole without a thought to himself, Steve had been forced to reevaluate his opinion of the man. Then Tony made him think even harder when he not only sent an open invitation to every single Avenger to live at his newly renovated Tower but went the extra step and designed each an apartment that fit their personality and needs specifically. He never told them this of course, they all just ended up meandering in for various reasons, normally needing a place to sleep for a night while in New York, and found a room designed specifically with them in mind. Eventually, their visits became more frequent until one day they just didn't leave. Tony never commented.

"I may not be the easiest guy to get along with and I know I sure as hell don't deserve you," continued Tony, not seeming to notice Steve's musings. "And I know I don't fit and I can't promise you it will be easy or I'll get easier to deal with, but I'm yours."

Tony sighed as if a huge weight had been lifted from his chest with the end of his admission. He had never wanted to be anyone else's ever. When Steve had first asked him to go steady, he had asked Tony specifically to be his man and Tony had refused with the counter offer of being his boyfriend but stating that Tony Stark belonged to no one. Over the years, he had unintentionally become wholeheartedly and irrevocably Steve's, but saying it aloud was something he had never done.

"I know," said Steve quietly, lips in Tony's messy hair, smile clear in his tone. "Thank you."

"You knew?" said Tony, looking up in surprise. "But I've never told you that."

"You never had to use words," shrugged Steve. "I could tell by how you act. But it's nice to know that you know it too."

The words were said gently but they still stung Tony's pride; he hated being that last to know anything.

"I will love you forever and always," whispered Steve, as if he could feel Tony's hurt and wanted to reassure him of what he meant. "Through the good and the bad and the ugly. I'm not going to leave, so you have to stop expecting it. Because while I know you're mine and have known it for a long time now, I need you to know that I entirely yours."

"Do you remember the fight?" whispered Tony, his voice quaking at the mere thought of the fight.

Steve knew exactly which fight his boyfriend was referring to and merely held him tighter in answer.

_It was supposed to be an easy, quick mission, which was why they had only sent Tony and Steve, who were already on that side of the world for one of Tony's many conferences. The mission itself was easy, something any one of them could have handled on their own, but the return trip had turned into a mess quickly, with their aircraft being shot out of the sky and Tony and Steve having the option to crash inside the aircraft and be killed or jump and hope to live. They jumped, just Steve and Tony, no Iron Man suit, the shield of no use, and when they landed had survived. _

_The aircraft hit farther up the slope a minute later, triggering an avalanche, and they had barely had time to duck into one of the cramped caves that littered the mountain side before the snow sealed them in. Steve, covering Tony with his body as the snow rumbled down, had been knocked out briefly by a chunk of ice, leaving Tony alone in the dark cave to panic._

_"Please wake up Stevie," whispered Tony, who only called him Stevie when he begged. "I don't want to be alone. Come on, please."_

_Steve remained motionless._

_"Steve, I understand that the world will carry on without you," said Tony, shaking from cold and terror, trying to keep the encroaching memories of caves and dark at bay by begging his lover to wake up. "But nothing will be the same. I would be lost without you. Please wake up. Stevie, please! I swear, I'll do whatever it takes. I'll stop being a selfish bastard and let you be with someone you deserve if you just don't leave me now. Please. Stay."_

_Slowly, unwillingly, Steve blinked his way back to the world of the living to find a sobbing, shuddering Tony clutching his chest in the midst of a full blown panic attack. Without thinking, Steve wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into his lap as he sat up, tugging his phone out of the genius's back pocket and sending the emergency notice to the others, knowing they would be out in a few short hours once one of them responded._

They didn't speak of that time in the cave. Steve had only a mild concussion, Tony a broken foot and leg from the drop from the plane, but the time stuck in the cold, dark cave was entirely more painful for both than those physical injuries. Steve felt guilty for leaving Tony alone thought he had not control over the situation, and Tony was embarrassed at his melt down.

"You weren't responding," whispered Tony. "We had only been together for a month but you weren't responding and that was the moment I realized I couldn't lose you too and it was also the moment I realized that I had never given you a reason to stay. And I promised myself that if you woke up I'd give you every reason to stay and tell you how I felt, and I know it's been three years and I never told you, but I'm ready now. So Steve, if you really meant what you said, that you will love me forever and always, then I promise to spend the rest of forever trying to make you as happy as you make me and giving you every reason to stay."

Tony dug into his pocket and pulled out a box.

"Steve, I never understood what people meant when they said they found their other half. I mean, how could you be half of a whole your entire life? It didn't make sense. And when I met you, I didn't think you could ever complete me because I had been whole a long time ago. But you made me see that while I had been whole, I had never been complete. With you, I can do more. You're my muse, my inspiration, the reason I want to become better than I am. What I'm trying to say is, Steve Rogers, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Steve laughed. Not just a chuckle or surprised yet pleased giggle, it was a full blown belly laugh that sent vibrations through Tony where he was draped over the larger man's broad chest.

"I simple no would have worked," grouched Tony, turning away to hide the hurt.

"No, Tony," gasped Steve, trying to fight back his laughter. "No, of course I'll marry you, you goof. I'm laughing because-love, look at me."

"No, you'll just laugh at me again," pouted Tony.

"Sweetheart," said Steve, his voice rumbling in that irresistible way that forced Tony to turn, almost against his will.

Steve was holding out his own ring, grin on his face.

"You beat me to the punch," said Steve.

***I wrote this one because I am about to have an anniversary myself and I am the Tony in the relationship, I am the worst at feelings, I swear I'm allergic to them or something. So this one was more for me to practice saying what my significant other means to me (minus the proposing bit). Always-Ari**


End file.
